


Fragile Things

by Arbryna



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Angst, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all gotta die someday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Things

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt from simplesetgo. Title (sort of) taken from Evanescence's "[My Last Breath](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLKVA-HYmP8)", because it gave me massive feels while writing this.

“You’re wrong.” 

Bo stares down at Tamsin’s unconscious form, clenching her hands into fists so tightly she can feel her nails digging into her palms. She feels helpless, frozen in place; she wants to fight, but there’s no enemy in sight other than the deathly pallor of Tamsin’s skin, the way her eyelashes flutter weakly against her cheeks. Even asleep, Tamsin looks like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders. 

Dyson’s hands fall to Bo’s shoulders, thumbs stroking in gentle reassurance. “Bo, I know it’s hard to accept,” he says, his voice gentle and calm, “but this is the way things are. Under normal circumstances she would be reborn, but you heard your father. There’s a good chance she won’t come back.” 

“No.” Bo shrugs off his hands and begins to pace. She won’t be comforted—not when she hasn’t given up yet. “There has to be a way to stop this. Trick, your blood can do anything.” She looks down at her grandfather, pleading desperately with everything she has. 

“I’m sorry, Bo,” Trick replies sadly. “Your father’s power exceeds even my own. These are forces I can’t even begin to meddle with.”

“No,” she says again, shaking her head almost violently. “No, I won’t accept this.” 

“Chill, succulette.” Tamsin’s voice is hoarse, groggy, but right now it’s the sweetest sound Bo has ever heard. Tamsin shifts on Trick’s couch, pulling herself up into a halfway sitting position. “I’ve been on this ride before.” 

“Tamsin,” Bo says, rushing to sit on the edge of the couch. Tamsin’s hands are resting on her stomach, and Bo reaches to cover them with one of her own. The skin under her fingers is cold to the touch. “Please tell me that my dad was bluffing. You’re coming back.”

A shadow flits through Tamsin’s eyes. “That’s the plan,” she replies with a weary smirk. “Can’t get rid of me this easily.”

Her confidence is a front, and Bo knows it. The fact that she hasn’t tried to shrug off Bo’s hand—hasn’t even commented on it—speaks volumes. Tears sting at Bo’s eyes, and she blinks them away. If Tamsin can be in denial about this, then so can she. “Will you…will you remember?” She’s not sure what she means, what exactly she wants Tamsin to remember, only that it’s important she does. 

Tamsin’s smirk fades a little. “Every excruciating detail,” she says dryly, closing her eyes against a fresh wave of pain. 

Drawing a shaky breath, Bo squeezes Tamsin’s hand like she can physically force Tamsin to stay here, to stay alive. Her other hand moves to brush an errant strand of hair away from a clammy cheek, and she winces when it comes away in her hand. Her gaze drifts to Tamsin’s lips. There’s one thing left that she hasn’t tried, because she’s terrified—because she _knows_ , even if she can’t bring herself to admit it—that it won’t work. 

As Bo leans closer, Tamsin’s eyes pop open again, the clear green a stark contrast to her pale skin. “Whoa, hotpants,” she murmurs. “Didn’t know corpses were your thing.”

Moving both hands to cradle Tamsin’s face, Bo leans in until their lips are nearly touching. “You’re not dead yet.” 

It’s harder to draw out her own chi than it would be to take someone else’s, but Bo has all but forgotten that anyone is in the room with them. All she can think about is Tamsin, and making sure she doesn’t die. The amber wisps drift out between her lips, but before it can make it into Tamsin, it reverses direction, doubling back into Bo’s mouth. Taking a deep gasp of air, Bo presses her lips firmly against Tamsin’s, breathing the chi directly into her mouth, but she can feel it fighting, pushing back against her. When she breathes out again, it comes out as almost a sob. 

Tamsin reaches up to give one of Bo’s hands a quick squeeze, arching an eyebrow. “You didn’t actually think that would work, did you?” 

“I had to try,” Bo insists, swallowing around the growing lump in her throat as she sits back. Her hand falls to Tamsin’s hip, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. “I can’t just sit here and watch you die.”

“No one’s holding you down,” Tamsin points out with a shrug, folding her hands over her stomach again. Her eyes dart around, staunchly avoiding meeting Bo’s. “I’m sure there are better shows on your stolen cable.”

God, sometimes Bo just wants to hit her. “You shouldn’t have helped me,” she chides, pushing weakly at Tamsin’s hip instead. “I could have taken him out on my own.”

“After his little pets tossed Dyson around like a rag doll? Please,” Tamsin scoffs. After a pause, she speaks again, more serious this time. “Besides, this had to happen sooner or later. I’m surprised I held out as long as I did.”

A tear escapes, sliding down over Bo’s cheek, and she sniffles. “There has to be something we can do.” _Something **I** can do._

“Hey, don’t sweat it. You did plenty.” Tamsin reaches down, her fingertips brushing Bo’s arm. The smile touching her lips is softer, less sarcastic. “I get to die with honor for the first time in centuries. Valkyries are supposed to sacrifice their lives to protect great warriors. I figure you beat Death himself, that makes you pretty great.” 

“It’s not fair,” Bo chokes out. After everything Tamsin has done…it’s just not fair that she should die now, when she’s changing for the better—when she’s doing _good_. 

Tamsin doesn’t bother pointing out the futility of her statement, but Bo’s not sure if it’s because she doesn’t want to, or because she’s too weak to argue. Her breaths are getting shallow, and her eyes are fluttering like they’re getting ready to close. “I’m an idiot, you know,” Tamsin says softly, her words slurring together. “Falling for you was the stupidest thing I ever could have done. But I went and did it anyway.” She tries to laugh, but it comes out as a cough instead. Her eyes slide open with what looks like a great deal of effort, looking deep into Bo’s. “You know, for a while there, I thought maybe…” She trails off before she can finish her sentence, her eyes falling shut.

“Maybe what?” Bo’s hands shoot up to cup Tamsin’s face, shaking gently. When she doesn’t get a response, she shakes again more frantically. “Tamsin! What did you think?”

All of Bo’s efforts are in vain; Tamsin’s chest has stopped even the slightest hint of rising and falling, and there is no pulse beating against Bo’s palm. As Bo watches, Tamsin’s form starts to blur around the edges, then fade. Finally Bo is left hunched over an empty couch, with nothing but the impression of Tamsin’s body in the cushions to prove she was ever there. A sob wrenches from her chest as she runs her hand over the wrinkles in the fabric. 

Bo is distantly aware of a hand on her shoulder, then an arm pulling her close. Dyson’s chest is solid and warm against her cheek, but the rhythmic thump of his heart is anything but comforting. She clings to him nonetheless, taking what solace she can in the safety of his arms. 

“It’s not over,” Bo murmurs stubbornly, clutching Dyson’s shirt. “She’s coming back.”

“Shh.” Dyson strokes her back, rocking slowly back and forth. “Of course she is.” 

He’s lying. Bo wants to hate him for it, even as gratitude swells in her chest. She can’t face the truth right now, can’t fathom the idea that Tamsin is gone, that she chose to sacrifice everything to save Bo. It hurts too much, makes Bo want to scream that she never asked for this, never wanted anyone to have to die for her. Deep down, she knows that, eventually, she’s going to have to accept that Tamsin isn’t coming back.

Eventually. But not today.


End file.
